


Improbability

by Solaren



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: F/F, Fluff and Angst, Mutual Pining
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-05-14
Updated: 2016-04-05
Packaged: 2018-03-30 14:35:05
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,952
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3940459
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Solaren/pseuds/Solaren
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"You think this- this is the last time I let this happen. <br/>But Skye’s found a way to so easily, slip into your life without so much of a warning sign.  "</p><p>(Set at the end of 2x02 and going into 3x02, will follow some canon)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is admittedly, the first fanfic i've ever written - I normally stick to poetry but I couldn't resist writing a Skimmons fic tbh.  
> I hope its a relatively good read so far and i'm hoping to improve as I go along, so bear with me :,)  
> (Non-Beta'd)

Skye’s hands snake around your waist and she's laying her head there again, the soft spot between your shoulder and neck.   
You think this- this is the last time I let this happen.  
But Skye’s found a way to so easily, slip into your life without so much of a warning sign.   
  
  “Jem, so you know I totally think your doctor who obsession is absolutely too nerdy for me, but I was thinking, you let me get you addicted to Greys anatomy…so… fine.”   
What became their guilty pleasure, not that Jemma would let her know that of course, some of their scientific scenarios and medical saves were just illogical, you knew that.   
So why is it you cant prove the way you feel is illogical - its just chemical reactions… right?  
 “Fine?” You breathe, and wonder how Skye doesn't just feel your anxious nerves on the surface of your skin.   
Skye slips her hands away from your waist and turns to stand in front of you as you lean your hands against the holotable.   
“I’ll watch it with you, nerd.”    
You've never been best pleased whenever anyone calls you that, having grown up always just being _that_ \- the nerd.   
But when Skye says it, almost dripping with endearment, you cant help but sigh into yourself, the corner of your lips turning upwards ever so slightly.  
 “In that case, i’m making you start from 9 - God knows you wouldn't be able to sit through doctors 1 all the way to 9.”  
She laughs and you feel your heart rate rise.  
Its almost that being around this girl causes you physical exertion.   
(She’ll never notice the glances you spare in her direction.)  
“Alright, you're the boss!”   
And she’s gone, a passing tap of her fingertips on your arm.  
 Its casual, but inwardly it lets off sparks that seem to skip and surge within you; it spreads from your stomach to your fingertips, just itching to reach out and touch her.   
Instead, you feel your fingers unclench from the table, you never even realised you were that tense until she left and you could breathe again.    
  
This has to stop. You're being irrational Jemma. One girl, Skye, shouldn't get to you this much.    
  
But she's not just one girl, you feel that deeply - its a feeling you're trying so hard to repress.  
  
  Because bloody hell… wouldn't that be the worst disaster - to fall for the one person you know could go out into the field and never come back.    
  
Your mind snaps to Skye in the chamber, lips chapped and tinged blue, still managing to look somehow, unearthly - ethereal you think, might be a more appropriate term. Its almost morbid, she's lying there, peaceful but bleeding, raw and dark red hues spilling out onto the glowing white chamber surface and you still, cant help but realise how beautiful she looks.    
  
Now the wound is gone and no longer gaping, leaving in its place two slightly crescent shaped scars, just slightly raised above the skin and coloured white.  
     

  —————  
  
  

You aren't supposed to feel this way as you both curl up on the sofa, a surprisingly boring day spent doing mundane experiments and Skye hacking video feeds. You aren't supposed to feel this way as Skye leans into your shoulder, its one of your favourite episodes, but how cliche - you cant even concentrate on one part of it because Skye - damn her- has made herself comfortable, haphazardly laying her arm across your lap.  
  
   You think at this moment that you've found what addiction means to you.  
  
  Addiction is the way your lungs pound against your bones and threaten to burst.  
 It’s the way the her touch finds a way to heighten the electrical current in the air.   
All scientifically improbable, sure, but you find yourself getting oddly poetic around Skye.   
It’s the way that in the reflection of the sides of the tv, you see her lick her lips, and it feels like you're making an effort just to remember how to breathe properly.   
Its like she's bloody taken over your mind, a Skye filled foggy haze.  
You have to resist giggling to yourself because, what an oxymoron. A girl with the name Skye has found a way to make your wired and perfectly capable brain, so damn foggy and clustered.    
  
Its like a storm cloud has made its way into what was a clear summer’s day.    
  
Theres lightening, thunder and rain so hard it feels as though your heart is rattling against your ribs, begging to beat a faster rhythm, if only you'd let it.  
  
————    
  
  
Weeks pass and Skye’s touches seem to have become more lingering on your skin and you feels as though every time you send a passing smile each others way, it lasts a little longer than it should. Days when you only see Skye briefly because they're too busy, or theres always another mission or another serum, you don't stop feeling like you're missing an integral part to your day.  
  
 You've started a routine now - Skye’s always complained about your disregard for coffee, claiming its ‘the best caffeine-filled pick me up there is’, always a little groggy eyed and husky before she makes a morning cup. You make tea beside her using the stash of earl grey brought from home - not enough to make you miss it, because this is your home now, but enough to bring a little old home comfort into your new one.    
  
You've grown to love the smell of coffee. You've grown to love the way it smells on Skye. Skye says that a cup of freshly ground coffee is just what it takes to get some people moving in the morning.  
But, according to a study, you've told Skye it may be the aroma rather than the coffee itself that does the trick.    
You knows it does for you, you just associate it with her now.  
Researchers believe that the aroma of roasted coffee beans can soothe frayed nerves - and that just the smell could be enough to reverse the effects of a poor night's sleep on the brain.    
  
You however, could prove that hypothesis wrong. You know damn well how much thoughts of coffee in the morning with Skye keep you awake at night.  
How one of those looks into gorgeous brown eyes make your nerves go haywire.    
  
  
  
It only takes a quick call into Coulson’s office to destroy every notion you had about taking it slow and testing the waters one longing look at a time.    
  
  
Because Coulson wants you undercover.    
  
  
At Hydra.


	2. Roll the dice

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ITS BEEN SO LONG IM SO SORRY i've had like 0 inspiration and college has been drowning me. 
> 
> Thankyou so much though to those who asked for a new chapter and who cared enough to kudo etc <3  
> Hope this is alright, its sub-par in my standards but I really wanted to get something out here even if it's super short.

The Jemma Simmons you know isn't often anything other than composed, inherently aware of herself and others around her but at this moment, you find you don’t have it in you to care.     
It doesn't matter that Coulson’s office has frosted glass, you think anyone would be able to hear you in this rare moment of pure frustration and anger.   

“No disrespect sir, but you expect me, of all people, to go undercover at the enemy’s BASE and not tell even Fitz or Skye?!”   

“Simmons, I understand your frustration, I really do, but-“

  “Sir, quite honestly, everyone knows I am positively the worst liar in the team, I’ve only had basic training and really sir, I'm just not quite sure I'm very fit for the role.”

  “That's why you’ll be using this week to train with May. Simmons, I hate to say it but you really are the best fit for this mission.”

You feel your face drop - you know he’s going to list the exact reasons why you have to go and it won't be in your professional attitude to your job to decline. 

 “There's been a job opening in the lab at one of Hydra’s base operations - I want you to work your way up the company until you have direct contact with the people up top. We want you to discreetly extract their files as and when you're there and we’ll set you up with a not-too-shabby apartment. After which we’ll send in an extraction team to get you.”

He pauses. 

“It is, however, imperative, much to your obvious dismay, that you cannot tell even one member of the team.” 

He looks at you with what seems to be understanding but fixes you with an almost stern look afterward.   At this moment, you know you're defeated, and you can't bring it in yourself to disagree with the director more than you already have. You mumble a “yes sir”, compose yourself and make a slow walk back to your bunk to mull it over in your head.

————  

Hours later, there's a knock on your bunk door and a simple “I’m coming in” promptly following after as Skye opens the door to lean against the frame.   

“Hello, Skye.”  

It takes everything in you not to let your voice crack with the knowledge you've just been given.   She gives you a raised eyebrow as if questioning the look you're giving her. It almost physically hurts not to look at Skye with adoration - a hard fixed stare and slightly creased eyebrows replacing what would've been.  

“Now that's not the usual Jemma Simmons I know is it? Whats up?”   
Skye says as she takes a step further into your bunk, gesturing for you to move along the bed so she can sit down.  “Oh, it's nothing Skye… I'm just worried about Fitz is all.” It's not technically a lie, so you find it slips easier over your tongue than any proper lie usually would.

Good practice, you guess.

 “Oh, of course, sorry.” 

She looks at you with concern, eyebrows knitted together as if trying to come up with something else to say that's less… touchy.

  “I know things have been… different around here since, but maybe you should, you know - go talk to him Jemma? It might do you both some good.”  

You fix her with a look of indignation.

“…Probably Skye. Probably. It could also do the exact opposite. I may just make him worse.” 

You look at the floor, too weak to even succumb to Skye’s kindly eyes.

You may just make her worse. 

Quite honestly, you needed something, to get you to stop thinking, to get you to stop remembering there was any kind of world, to make yourself small and secure in something that you could control and now that Skye had started talking to you and desperately trying to look into your eyes - it was just words, white noise at this point, but at the same time it wasn’t.   
You’re not quite sure you're going to be able to restrain yourself from saying something illogical and ill-timed. This moment felt like all the ways you had looked at each other and it was the way that just the air was starting to feel like too much pressure, that you might breathe in too hard and suffocate yourself.    
You don't want to go.  You want Skye’s hands on you.  You want to bury your head in Skye’s neck and have her tell you everything’s going to be alright.  You want to forget anything that isn't her body pressed against yours, hands splayed, drawing out breath from you and your breath lost on her skin.

 You think she might let you if you didn't give her that look which pleaded for a little time alone, a little oxygen to yourself.

“I’ll, um, come see you later. Alright Jem?”  

You just nod dejectedly, avoiding her eye-line. You pause, waiting for her footsteps to fade out. Breathe again. Lie down. You sigh into yourself.  You stare at the ceiling like just maybe, the white fog will clear and you'll be able to think clearly again.   
You're sure you will in a couple days.

————


End file.
